By: John Vahedi
Early, I stir to the crying call of my child
whom suddenly has come alive. Beguiled
by his smile, I carry him against my chest
in the hazy darkness. Awhile his tiny body rests
I wonder, am I possessed? Forever with you, in vain
I could remain obsessed. Escaping on an airplane,
his excitement a reflection of mine: clutching
him as to feel us as one. Embracing his faint touch,
nervous for our imminent departure. This silent sound
I suffer; when will his heart stop to pound?
I wake up to a boring hum and subdued light.
My eyes drift from far to near, from blurry to clear.
I extract from my mind where it had gone in fright.
And, within the frozen gaze of my heart, lives again my fear.